Remembrances
by carta
Summary: Spoilers for Season Three. Rodney is sad. Sam steps in it a little. But it's ok. Written for the A Picture is Worth 1000 Words ficathon on LiveJournal. My picture was this:


**Untitled Challenge Fic**  
by ames  
_The challenge was to write a story of exactly 1000 words, based on a provided picture. My picture was this._

Sam poked her head in the door to McKay's quarters. "McKay?" she called. No answer. She entered, and wandered around a little, looking at his pictures and glancing at the schematics on his computer. A metallic flash caught her eye, and she carefully lifted a sheet of paper to reveal a small pile of fishing hooks. She blinked in surprise. That was unexpected. She turned as she heard the door open behind her and saw McKay enter the room.

"I didn't know you fished, McKay," she said, looking up as he entered the room. McKay pushed past her and swept the fishing hooks into his palm before sliding them surreptitiously back under the paper. "Hey, I'm sorry, but I was just looking, McKay."

McKay stood with his back to her, tension evident in the set of his shoulders and the rigidity of this spine. "They're not mine," he said, tightly.

"No?" she asked.

He glanced at her briefly, then sank onto the corner of his bed, rubbing his hands over his face roughly. "They were Carson's."

Sam cringed inwardly. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to bring up bad memories."

McKay dropped his hands in his lap and sighed. "No, it's ok. It's just – we were supposed to go fishing the day he died. We'd arranged it a long time ago, and I stood him up so I could hang out with my girlfriend, which was pointless in retrospect, so ultimately there was no reason for me not to go fishing except that I really hate it."

Sam sat quietly, watching McKay out of the corner of her eye. "I didn't know you were that close," she ventured.

"He was my best friend," McKay replied, softly.

"Really? I'm sorry," she hastily added at McKay's blank stare. "I know I'm new here and all, but I always assumed Colonel Sheppard was."

McKay grimaced. "I don't know if what the Colonel and I have could be accurately defined as friendship. Carson and I were among the first to be brought onto the Atlantis project, did you know that?"

"No," Carter said. "I knew there was a lot of manpower going to Antarctica, but I wasn't in on the details."

"He was there when I arrived – from Siberia," the last said with a slightly venomous glare. Sam smiled innocently. "But we'd known each other before, two civilian contractors bouncing around the same military bases. So it was nice to have a friend, a friendly face. When we both got tapped to come to Atlantis, we went to dinner and celebrated." He sighed. "We were going to change the world. My science and his genetics – and look at us now. I spend my days coming up with ways to beat the seemingly infinite number of enemies that are out to kill us, fixing a city that finds new and exciting ways to break, and Carson – well, he's dead, isn't he."

Sam hesitated, then rested a hand on his arm. "McKay," she said gently. "I know it's hard. Working here, doing what we do – there's a lot of danger, and not everyone makes it."

"I know that," McKay snapped. "I know, I see people die all the – do you have any idea how many people we've lost in the past three years? How many colleagues, people I chose to come here? Even when our enemies aren't actively trying to kill us, we're doing a great job of it ourselves!" He stopped, deflating all at once, like a pressure valve had opened. He shook his head, and looked at her with haunted eyes. "I've almost gotten used to it. But this feels different."

Sam sighed. "It is different. It's not that you aren't affected by everyone else, but when it's one of your own – it hurts more." She shoved her hands in her jacket pockets, uncomfortable. It was times like these that she missed having Daniel around; he was always better with other people's emotions. "Daniel told me once that the SGC was like a mini-tribe. We form strong attachments to each other, and that it only made sense to see them as family, so when someone dies –." She swallowed and glanced away. "It hurts more."

"I don't mean to be intrusive, but you sound like you're speaking from experience." McKay held his hands up defensively as Sam looked at him sharply. "You don't have to say anything," he hastily said. "I didn't mean to upset you."

Sam shook her head. "No, it's ok," she said. "Do you remember Dr. Frasier? Janet?" At his nod, she continued. "She died a few years ago. She was my best friend, too."

Sam was surprised at how deeply McKay seemed to feel Carson's loss. While she had worked with McKay off and on over the past few years, she hadn't bothered getting to know him any better. Of course, it didn't help that he reverted to braggadocio and posturing when she was around, but she was beginning to realize that he d changed. He was still overconfident, dangerously so, but he was more willing to listen to others.

McKay abruptly stood, startling her from her reverie. "Well, he's gone now, and there's no use wallowing in the past," he said briskly. He crossed to his desk and swept the fishing hooks into the trash. "Sentimentality is pointless, a waste of energy, and I have more important things to do."

Sam rose. She rescued the fishing hooks, and pressed them gently into McKay's hand. "There's nothing wrong with remembrances, Rodney," she said quietly. "And it's ok to miss someone – especially a friend." McKay stilled, blinking wide eyes, but cradling Carson's fishing hooks carefully. They gazed at each other for a few seconds, then Carter gave him two sharp pats on the arm. "Come on, McKay. Meeting in ten minutes. I'll see you there."

She turned and walked through the door, glancing behind at the last second to see McKay carefully, almost reverently, returning the hooks to their place on the desk.

END


End file.
